Human Values in Education

Schmidt Number: S-5849a

On-line since: 15th May, 2012

LECTURE X

Arnheim, 24th July, 1924.

Lectures VIII and IX were given on the same day.
Lecture X consists of concluding words to Lecture IX.

As
I am now coming to the concluding words of this course of
lectures on education, I should like first of all to take the
opportunity of expressing the deep satisfaction I feel that our
friends in Holland, who have set themselves the task of
fostering the anthroposophical conception of the world, had the
will to arrange this course. Such an enterprise always involves
an immense amount of hard work for the organisers. And we
ourselves, just because we have very many things to arrange in
Dornach, know best of all what goes on behind the scenes on
such occasions, all the work that has to be done and how much
effort and energy are called for. It is therefore obvious that,
before leaving Holland, I should express my very warmest thanks
to those who have worked together in order to bring about this
whole conference. An educational course has taken place and in
my closing words I may perhaps be allowed to say something
about the part played by the art of education within the whole
sphere of the anthroposophical movement.

An
educational art has grown up within the anthroposophical
movement, not, so to speak, as something which has found its
way into the movement through some abstract intention,
but it has arisen with a certain necessity out of the movement
itself. Up to now few activities have grown out of the
anthroposophical movement so naturally and inevitably as this
art of education. In the same way, simply as a matter of
course, eurythmy has grown out of the anthroposophical
movement through Frau Dr. Steiner, medicine through Frau
Dr. Wegman; and educational art, as with the other two, has, I
may venture to say, arisen likewise in accordance with destiny,
with karma. For the anthroposophical movement as such is,
without any doubt, the expression of something which
corresponds to human striving through the very fact that
humanity has arisen on the earth.

We
need only look back into those ancient times in the evolution
of humanity when Mystery Centres were to be found here and
there, in which religion, art and science were cultivated
out of experiences of the spirit, and we become aware how in
those old, sacred centres human beings have had, as it were,
intercourse with beings of the super-sensible world in order to
carry spiritual life into external, physical life. We can
pursue our way further into the historical development of
humanity and we shall discover ever and again the urge to add
what is super-sensible to what man perceives with his senses.
Such are the perspectives which open up when we penetrate into
the historical evolution of humanity and see that what lives in
anthroposophy today is ceaseless human striving. As
anthroposophy however it lives out of the longings, out
of the endeavours of human souls living at the present
time. And the following may in truth be said: At the turning
point of the 19th to the 20th century it has become possible,
if one only has the will, to receive revelations from the
spiritual world which will once again deepen the whole
world-conception of mankind.

These revelations from the spiritual world, which today must
take on a different manifestation from the old Mystery Truths,
must accord with modern scientific knowledge. They form the
content of anthroposophy. And whoever makes them his own knows
also that out of the conditions of our present age many, many
more people would come to anthroposophy were it not for the
tremendous amount of prejudice, of pre-conceived feelings and
ideas, which put obstacles in their path. But these are things
which must be overcome. Out of the small circle of
anthroposophists must grow an ever larger one. And if we call
to mind everything which is living and working in this circle
we may perhaps — without in any way wishing to declare
that anthroposophy is itself a religious movement — we
may perhaps allow a deeply moving picture to rise up before
us.

Call to mind the Mystery of Golgotha. Only a hundred years
after the Mystery of Golgotha, the most brilliant Roman writer,
Tacitus, writes about Christ as if he were someone almost
unknown, who had met his death over in Asia. At that time
therefore, in the height of Roman civilisation, of Roman
spiritual and cultural life, where people were living in the
traditions of the previous several thousand years, even there
nothing was known of Christ. And it is possible to paint a
word-picture of a significant fact: There above is the Roman
civilisation — in the arenas, in brilliant performances,
in everything that takes place in Roman social life, in
the life of the state. Below, underground, are those regions
known as the catacombs. There many people gather together,
gather by the graves of those who, like themselves, were
believers in the Mystery of Golgotha. These people must keep
everything secret. What goes on under the earth only comes to
the surface on those occasions when, in the arena, a Christian
is smeared with pitch and burned as an entertainment for those
who are civilised citizens. Thus we have two worlds: above, the
life of Roman civilisation, based on old, resplendent
traditions; below, what is developing in secret under the
earth. Let us take the brilliant writer of this epoch. He was
able to write what amounts to no more than a brief reference in
his notes to the coming into being of Christianity, while his
writing table in Rome may well have stood over one of the
catacombs without his knowing anything whatsoever about what
was taking place beneath him.

Let
us take several hundred years later. What earlier had spread
over the world in such a spectacular way has now disappeared;
the Christian civilisation has risen to the surface of the
earth and Christianity is beginning to expand in Europe where
previously there had been the Roman culture. Keeping such a
picture in view one sees how things actually proceed in the
evolution of humanity. And often, when contemplating the
present time, one is inclined to say: To be sure,
anthroposophists today do not bury themselves under the earth;
that is no longer customary, or they would have to do it;
externally they find themselves in surroundings as beautiful as
those we have here; but now ask yourselves whether those from
outside, who regard ordinary, normal civilisation as their own,
know more about what is taking place here than the Romans knew
about what was taking place in the catacombs. One can no longer
speak so precisely; the situation has passed over into a more
intellectual sphere, but it remains the same. And when in
thought one looks forward a few hundred years, one may at any
rate indulge in the courageous hope that the picture will
change. Of course, those who know as little about anthroposophy
today as the Romans knew about Christianity find all this very
fantastic; but no one can work actively in the world who is
unable to look courageously at the path opening out before him.
And anthroposophists would fain look with the same courage at
the way which lies ahead. This is why such pictures rise up in
the mind's eye.

From time to time we must certainly turn our attention to all
the opinions about anthroposophy which are held today.
Gradually it has come about that scarcely a week goes by
without the appearance of some sort of antagonistic book
dealing with anthroposophy. The opponents take
anthroposophy very seriously. They refute it every week
or so, not indeed so much from different standpoints, for they
are not very inventive, but they nevertheless refute it. It is
quite interesting to observe how anthroposophy is dealt with
when approached in this way. One discovers that very learned
people, or people who should have a sense of responsibility,
write books on some subject or other and introduce what they
have read about anthroposophy. Very often they have not read a
single book whose author is an anthroposophist, but they gather
their information solely from the works of opponents.

Let
us take an example. There was once a Gnosis, of which scarcely
anything exists except the Pistis-Sophia, a writing which does
not contain very much and is moreover extremely difficult to
understand. All those who write about the Gnosis today —
for at the present time this realm is very much in the
forefront — know little about it, but nevertheless regard
themselves as its exponents. They believe that they are
giving some explanation of the Gnosis when they say it
originated out of Greek culture. I must often think of how it
would be if everything related to anthroposophy went the same
way; if, as many people often wish, all anthroposophical
writings were to be burnt; then anthroposophy would be known as
the Gnosis is known today. It is interesting that today many
people say that anthroposophy is a warmed-up Gnosis. They do
not know anthroposophy because they do not wish to know it, and
they do not know the Gnosis because no external document
dealing with it exists. Nevertheless this is how people talk.
It is a negative example, but it can notwithstanding point in a
definite direction. It can certainly only point to this:
Courage and strength will be needed if anthroposophy is not to
go the same way as the Gnosis, but is to develop so as to
unfold its intrinsic reality. When one looks such things in the
face, a feeling of deep satisfaction arises when one sees all
the various undertakings which come about, of which this
conference is an example; for such things taken together should
ensure that anthroposophy will work powerfully into the future.
In this educational course anthroposophy has, as it were, only
peeped in through little windows. Much however has been
indicated which may serve to show how anthroposophy goes hand
in hand with reality, how it penetrates right into practical
life. Just because everything real is permeated with spirit,
one can only recognise and understand reality when one has an
eye for the spirit. Of course it was not possible to speak here
about anthroposophy as such. On the other hand it was perfectly
possible to speak about a sphere of activity in which
anthroposophy can work fruitfully: I mean the sphere of
education.

In
the case of eurythmy for instance it was destiny itself that
spoke. Today, looking at things from outside, it might well be
imagined that at a certain moment someone was struck with a
sudden thought: We must have a eurythmy. This was not so, but
at that time there was a family whose father had died.

There were a number of children and the mother was
concerned about their welfare. She was anxious that
something worth while should develop out of them. The
anthroposophical movement was still small. The question was put
to me: What might develop out of the children? It was in
connection with this question that the first steps were taken
to come to something in the nature of eurythmy. To begin with
the attempt was confined to the very narrowest limits. So it
was out of these circumstances that the first indications for
eurythmy were given. Destiny had spoken. Its manifestation was
made possible through the fact that there was an anthroposophy
and that someone standing on anthroposophical ground was
seeking her life's career. And soon after — it did not
take so very long — the first pupils who had learned
eurythmy themselves became teachers and were able to carry
eurythmy out into the world. So, with the help of Frau Dr.
Steiner, who took it under her wing, eurythmy has become what
it is today. In such a case one may well feel convinced that
eurythmy has not been sought: eurythmy has sought
anthroposophy.

Now
let us take medicine. Frau Dr. Wegman has been a member of the
Anthroposophical Society ever since there was a Society. Her
first attempts to heal out of an artistic perception gave her
the predisposition to work medically within the
Anthroposophical Movement. As a whole-hearted anthroposophist
she devoted herself to medicine. So here too medicine has grown
out of the being of anthroposophy and today exists firmly
within it because its growth has come about through one
particular personality.

And
further. When the waves of the world war had subsided, people's
thoughts turned in all possible directions: Now at last
something really great must happen: now, because human beings
have experienced so much suffering, they must find the courage
to achieve something great; there must be a complete change of
heart. Immense ideals were the order of the day. Authors of all
kinds, who otherwise would have written on quite other
subjects, wrote about “The Future of the State” or
“The Future of the Social Order” and so on.
Everywhere thoughts were turned towards what could now come
about out of man himself. On anthroposophical soil many such
things sprang up and faded away. Only in the realm of education
there was very little to show up to this time. My little book,
The Education of the Child from the Aspect of Spiritual Science,
which appeared more or less at the beginning of
the Anthroposophical Movement, was already there and it
contained all kinds of indications which could be
developed into a whole system of education. It was however not
regarded as anything special, nothing more than a booklet that
might help mothers to bring up their children. I was constantly
asked: Should this child be dressed in blue, or that one in
red? Should this child be given a yellow bed-cover or that
child a red one? I was also asked what one or another child
should eat, and so on. This was an admirable striving in an
educational direction but it did not amount to very much.

Then in Stuttgart, out of all these confused ideals, there
emerged Emil Molt's idea to found a school for the children of
the workers at the Waldorf-Astoria cigarette factory. And Emil
Molt, who is present today, had the notion to hand the
direction of the school over to me. That was a foregone
conclusion. Destiny could not have it otherwise. The school was
founded with 150 children drawn from the Waldorf-Astoria
factory. It was provided with teachers drawn from the
Anthroposophical Movement. The law pertaining to schools in
Württemberg made it possible to choose as teachers men and
women who were regarded as suitable. The only condition made
was that those who were to become teachers should be able to
give some proof in a general way that they were well-fitted for
their task. All this happened before the great “freeing
of humanity” through the Weimar National Assembly From
that time onwards we should no longer have been able to set
about things so freely. As it was, we could make a
beginning, and it will be possible at least for a few
years to maintain the lower classes also.
[It was then possible that a State law might prevent
children from entering the school before the fifth class.]

Well, then anthroposophy took over the school, or one might
equally well say, the school took over anthroposophy. And in a
few years the school grew in such a way that children were
entered coming from very different backgrounds and belonging to
all classes of life. All kinds of people wanted their children
to attend Waldorf School, anthroposophists and
non-anthroposophists. Very strange opinions were held.
Naturally enough parents are fondest of their own children and
of course want to send them to an excellent school. To give one
example, we have had the following experience. There are many
opponents whose opposition is based on scientific
grounds; and they know that anthroposophy is so much foolish,
unscientific rubbish. Nevertheless they send their
children to the Waldorf School. They even discover that the
Waldorf School suits their children admirably. Recently two
such people visited the Waldorf School and said — But
this Waldorf School is really good, we notice this in our
children; but what a pity that it is based on
“Theosophy.” Now the Waldorf School would not be
there at all if anthroposophy were not there. So, you see, the
judgment of many people amounts to this: It is as if one would
say: That is an excellent dancer; the only pity is that he must
stand on two legs. Such is the logic of opponents. One cannot
do otherwise than say that the Waldorf School is good, for
nothing whatever in this school is planned in order to make it
a school with a definite “world-conception.” In
regard to religious instruction, the Catholic children are
taught by a Catholic priest, the evangelical children by an
evangelical clergyman; and only because in Germany there are a
great many non-churchmen who belong to no religious community,
are we obliged to arrange for a free religion lesson. Otherwise
these children would have had no religious teaching at all. I
have great difficulty in finding teachers for these free
religion lessons, for they are over-full. There is no
inducement whatever to persuade the children to come, for we
only want to be a modern school. All we want is to have
practical and fundamental principles for the instruction and
education. We have no wish to introduce anthroposophy into the
school, for we are no sect; what we are concerned with is
universally human. We cannot however prevent children from
leaving the evangelical and Catholic religion lessons and
coming to the free religion lesson. It is not our fault, but
they come. And so we have ever and again to see to it that this
free religion lesson is continued.

The
Waldorf School is growing, step by step. It now has about 800
children and between 40 and 50 teachers. Its growth is well in
hand — not so its finances. The financial situation is
very precarious. Less than six weeks ago there was no means of
knowing whether the financial position would allow the Waldorf
School to exist beyond 15th June. Here we have an example which
shows clearly how difficult it is today for an
undertaking to hold its own in the face of the terrible
state of economic affairs in Central Europe, even though it has
proved beyond any manner of doubt the spiritual justification
for its existence. Again and again, every month, we experience
the utmost anxiety as to how we are to make the existence of
the Waldorf School economically possible. Destiny allows us to
work, but in such a way that the Sword of Damocles —
financial need — is always hanging over our heads. As a
matter of principle we must continue to work, as if the Waldorf
School were established for eternity. This certainly
demands a very pronounced devotion on the part of the teaching
staff, who work with inner intensity without any chance of
knowing whether in three months time they will be
unemployed.

Nevertheless anthroposophical education has grown out of the
Anthroposophical Society. What has been least sought for is
what prospers best. In other words, what the gods have given,
not what men have made, is most blessed with good fortune. It
is quite comprehensible that the art of education is something
which perforce lies especially close to the hearts of
anthroposophists. For what is really the most inwardly
beautiful thing in the world? Surely it is the growing,
developing human being. To see this human being from the
spiritual worlds enter into the physical world through birth to
observe how what lives in him, what he has carried down
in definite form is gradually becoming more and more defined in
his features and movements, to behold in the right way divine
forces, divine manifestations working through the human form
into the physical world — all this has something about it
which in the deepest sense we may call religious. No wonder
therefore that, wherever there is the striving towards
the purest, truest, most intimate humanity, such a striving as
exists as the very foundation of anything
anthroposophical, one contemplates the riddle of the
growing human being with sacred, religious fervour and brings
towards it all the work of which one is capable.

That is something which, arising out of the deepest impulses of
the soul, calls forth within the anthroposophical movement
enthusiasm for the art of education. So one may truly say: The
art of education stands within the anthroposophical movement as
a creation which can be nurtured in no other way than with
love. It is so nurtured. It is indeed nurtured with the most
devoted love. And so many venture to say further that the
Waldorf School is taken to the heart of all who know it, and
what thrives there, thrives in a way that must be looked upon
as an inner necessity. In this connection I should like to
mention two facts.

Not
so very long ago a conference of the Anthroposophical Society
was held in Stuttgart. During this conference the most varied
wishes were put forward coming from very different sides.
Proposals were made as to what might be done in one or other
sphere of work. And just as today other people in the world are
very clever, so naturally anthroposophists are clever too; they
frequently participate in the cleverness of the world. Thus it
came about that a number of suggestions were interpolated
into the conference. One in particular was very
interesting. It was put forward by pupils who were in the
top class of the Waldorf School and it was a real appeal to the
Anthroposophical Society. The appeal was signed by all the
pupils of the 12th Class and had more or less the following
content: We are now being educated in the Waldorf School in a
genuine, human way; we dread having to enter an ordinary
university or college. Could not the Anthroposophical Society
also create an anthroposophical university? For we should like
to enter a university in which our education could be as
natural and human as it is now in the Waldorf School. —
The suggestion thrown into the meeting stirred the idealism of
the members and as a result the decision was actually taken to
found an anthroposophical university. A considerable sum of
money was collected, but then, in the time of inflation,
millions of marks melted away into pfennigs. Nevertheless there
were people who believed that it might be possible to do
something of the kind and to do it before the Anthroposophical
Society had become strong enough to form and give out
judgments. Well, we might certainly be able to train doctors,
theologians and so on, but what would they be able to do after
their training? They would receive no recognition. In spite of
this, what was felt by these childlike hearts provides an
interesting testimony to the inner necessity of such education.
It was by no means unnatural that such a suggestion was put
forward. But, to continue the story, when our pupils entered
the top class for the first time we were obliged to take the
following measures. We had been able to give the young people
only what constituted a living culture, but now they had
to find access to the dead culture essential to the Abitur
examination.
[The German matriculation.]
We had therefore to
plan the time-table for the top class in such a way that our
pupils could take the Abitur. This cut right across our own
curriculum and in our teachers' meetings we found it
extraordinarily difficult to reconcile ourselves to putting the
examination work as the focal point of the curriculum during
the final year of this class. Nevertheless we did this. I had a
far from easy time when I visited the class, for on the one
hand the pupils were yawning because they had to learn what
they must know later for the examination, and on the other hand
their teachers often wanted to fit in other things which were
not necessary for the examination but which the pupils wanted
to know. They had always to be reminded: But you must not say
that at the examination. This was a real difficulty. And then
came the examination. The results were passable. However, in
the college of teachers and in the teachers' meetings we were
— pardon the expression — thoroughly fed up. We
said: We have already established the Waldorf School; and now,
when we should crown our work during the last school year, we
are unable to carry out our intentions and do what the school
requires of us. And so, there and then, in spite of everything,
we resolved to carry through the curriculum strictly to the end
of the final school year, to the end of the 12th class, and
moreover to suggest to the parents and pupils that we should
add yet another year, so that the examination could be taken
then. The pupils accepted this with the greatest willingness
for they saw it as a way out which would ensure the realisation
of the intentions of the Waldorf School. We experienced no
opposition whatever. There was only one request which was that
Waldorf School teachers should undertake the coaching for the
examination.

You
see how difficult it is actually to establish within present
day so-called reality something originating purely out of a
knowledge of man. Only those who live in a world of fantasy
could fail to see that one has perforce to deal with things as
they are, and that this gives rise to immense difficulties. And
so we have on the one hand the art of education within the
anthroposophical movement, something which is loved quite as a
matter of course. On the other hand we have to recognise that
the anthroposophical movement as it exists in the social order
of today is confronted with formidable difficulties when it
endeavours to bring about, precisely in the beloved sphere of
education, those things of which it perceives the deep inner
necessity. We must look reality in the face in a living way. Do
not think that it would occur to me for a single moment to
ridicule those who out of inner conviction are inclined to say:
Well, really, things are not so bad; too much is made of it
all, for other schools get on quite all right. No, that is not
the point! I know very well how much work and effort and even
spirit are to be found in the schools of today. I fully
recognise this. But unfortunately human beings today do not
look ahead in their thinking. They do not see the threads
connecting education, as it has become in the last few
centuries, with what is approaching us with all the violence of
a storm, threatening to ravage and lay waste our social life.
Anthroposophy knows what are the conditions essential to the
development of culture in the future; this alone compels us to
work out such methods as you will find in our education. Our
concern is to provide humanity with the possibility of
progress, to save it from retrogression.

I
have described on the one hand how the art of education stands
within the anthroposophical movement, but how, on the other
hand, through the fact that this art of education is centred in
the anthroposophical movement, that movement is itself faced
with great difficulties in the public life of today.

When therefore it so happens that to an ever increasing extent
a larger circle of people, as has been the case here, come
together who are desirous of hearing what anthroposophy has to
say on the subject of education, one is thankful to the genius
of our time that it is possible to speak about what lies so
closely to one's heart. In this particular course of lectures I
was only able to give a stimulus, to make certain suggestions.
But when one comes down to rock bottom, not all that much has
been achieved; for our anthroposophical education rests on
actual teaching practice. It only lives when it is carried out;
for it intends nothing more nor less than life itself. In
actual fact it cannot truly be described, it must be
experienced. This is why when one tries to stimulate interest
in what must necessarily be led over into life, one has to make
use of every possible art of speech in order to show how in the
anthroposophical art of education we have the will to work out
of the fullness of life. Maybe I have succeeded but ill in this
course, but I have tried. And so you see how our education has
grown out of anthroposophy in accordance with
destiny.

Many people are still living in anthroposophy in such a way
that they want to have it only as a world conception for heart
and soul, and they look askance at anthroposophy when it widens
its sphere of activity to include art, medicine, education and
so on. But it cannot be otherwise, for anthroposophy demands
life. It must work out of life and it must work into life. And
if these lectures on the art of education have succeeded in
showing to some small extent that anthroposophy is in no way
sectarian or woven out of fantasy, but is something which is
intended to stand before the world with the cool reasonableness
of mathematics (albeit, as soon as one enters into the
spiritual, mathematical coolness engenders enthusiasm, for
enthusiasm is a word that is connected with spirit
[The German words for enthusiasm and spirit are
Geist and Begeisterung.]
and one cannot help becoming enthusiastic, even
if one is quite cool in the mathematical sense, when one has to
speak and act out of the spirit) — even if anthroposophy
is still looked upon today as an absurd fantasy, it will
gradually be borne in on people that it is based on absolutely
real foundations and strives in the widest sense of the words
to embody and practise life. And possibly this can be
demonstrated best of all today in the sphere of education.

If
it has been possible to give some of those who have been
present here a few stimulating ideas, then I am content. And
our work together will have its best result if all those who
have been a little stirred, a little stimulated, find in their
common striving a way to continue in the practice of life what
these lectures were intended to inspire.